Golden Hour: A Team Jacob Twilight FanFic

Distractions

When I woke up in the spare room of the Ateara's home, I was reminded that the previous day wasn't all just in my head. Who would've thought? It was getting harder and harder to distinguish what was even real anymore. The extreme exhaustion had drug me into one of the deepest periods of sleep I've had in a long time. It was much, much needed. And I had no nightmares, surprisingly.

Sunlight highlighted the stuffy room that was filled to the ceiling with boxes. Dust shimmered down slowly throughout the air, which explained my sudden sneezing. The digital alarm clock on the wooden nightstand read 2:07 pm. Great.

I rose out of the rickety futon, cringing at the ruckus, hoping not to be a disturbance. But once I stood up, I backed into a cluttered tower of belongings, which toppled over with a loud crash.

Heat washed over me, and I wanted to crawl out of the tiny window out of embarrassment.

Boxes of photos and documents splayed open onto the floor. A cracked tackle box full of lures, hooks, and bobbers landed on its side. I knelt down to quickly gather everything to put back in its proper place.

Much of the documentation seemed private, so I averted my eyes to the photos instead, which were mostly of young Quil and Joy. There were also many of a man on his boat, which I thought to be a younger Old Quil, but the photos were too new.

"Uh, Bella, you okay in there? Can I come in?" Quil called out from behind the door.

I hesitated, fumbling with the photos that were difficult to peel off the wooden floor.

"Yes, I'm fine!" I called out.

The door creaked open, and Quil slipped into the tight room. I'd clearly woken him as he seemed groggy and was sporting a thin robe paired with flannel pajama pants. His curly hair was more matted and unkempt than usual, a clear case of bedhead.

"Lemme help." He crouched beside me, gathering the papers and photos much faster than I did.

"I'm so sorry. I should have been more careful."

"You're fine. It's sort of a hoarding situation in here," he said with a half-hearted smile.

We arranged everything back into a disheveled pile, and I put my hands behind my back to not knock over anything else.

"I just got up, too. You hungry?" Quil asked, leading the way out of the room.

"Not really; I could eat at home. I should probably get going now anyway." My growling stomach disagreed.

"Oh c'mon, my mom probably left us some stuff."

Quil waltzed into the snug yellow kitchen while I shyly limped behind him. The house was seemingly empty. Joy must have been at work, and Old Quil still hadn't returned from last night. But nobody thought anything of it, so I supposed that was normal for him.

I didn't want to take up more space in their home, and I certainly didn't want to eat more of their food. Regardless, I was immensely grateful for Quil and Joy.

Quil hovered by the counter, reading a small blue post-it note. Plates of diced fruits, waffles, sausage, and bacon with plastic wrap over them were set atop the kitchen table.

We gathered food onto the set plates and sat across from each other.

"How's it feel this morning to walk? Might be a little more tender, yeah?" Quil asked, popping a piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Yes, a bit. Not the worst thing in the world; I've endured worse."

"Just keep the cuts clean and bandages changed; you'll be A-OK."